


Would I Change If You Carried Me Back

by shadowsapiens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Dubiously Consensual Tenderness, Emotionally Repressed, Extra Treat, First Kiss, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsapiens/pseuds/shadowsapiens
Summary: He remembers the professor shouting, “Follow Dimitri!” as the fight spread through the treeline, as the boar’s blue cloak swept farther and farther away.Follow Dimitri. As if Felix has ever done anything else.





	Would I Change If You Carried Me Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Allekha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/gifts).

> Trick or Treat, Allekha! You had so many great ideas for so many characters, thank you! I hope you enjoy how this turned out :D

Night falls fast, and the snow falls faster. The rush of battle still heats his blood, but Felix knows that won’t help for long. Winter bites deep into the mountains north of Gautier, even in the heart of Harpstring Moon. Felix trudges forward, eyes on the mountains, ears on the boar breathing at his heels. The snow’s past his knees now, and the going is slow.

“Felix,” Dimitri says. “Let me go ahead.”

Felix leads for ten more steps before resigning himself to defeat. The snow’s only getting harder to push through. He stops wordlessly, afraid his teeth will start chattering if he unclenches them.

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, like Felix is doing him a favor. Felix can’t see his face as he passes, hidden by his fur-lined hood, loose blonde hair whipping in the wind. They press forward, and Felix hates to admit it’s easier with Dimitri leading. The snowbanks break apart before his absurd strength.

He remembers the professor shouting, “Follow Dimitri!” as the fight spread through the treeline, as the boar’s blue cloak swept farther and farther away.

Follow Dimitri. As if Felix has ever done anything else.

The last hint of light is nearly vanished when Dimitri stops. Felix was looking at the mountains, and runs into him. He bounces off Dimitri’s cloaked bulk and snaps, “What is it?”

He can’t tell if Dimitri hears him. The wind is so loud. Dimitri turns around and leans towards him. Felix braces himself, trying not to flinch, as Dimitri shouts into his ear: “I think the caves are this way.”

Felix grits his teeth and looks anywhere that isn’t Dimitri’s wind-reddened face. Tries to ignore how suddenly _warm_ he is. He shouts back, “We can make it to camp.”

“Felix,” Dimitri says. “You’ll freeze if we don’t shelter before nightfall.”

_You’ll_ freeze. Not _we’ll_ freeze. Felix bristles at the reminder of his own weakness. But night is falling. They’ve both spent too many years walking through darkness to die in it tonight. He shoves Dimitri’s shoulder and says, “Fine. The professor would kill me if I got you killed out here.”

Dimitri snorts. “He’d kill me if I lost you too,” he says, and turns to lead again.

Stupid. Like it’s anywhere near the same thing, Dimitri’s life and his.

Felix knows the caves Dimitri’s looking for. They spent Verdant Moon hunting these mountains once with Sylvain. Ingrid couldn’t go because she fell ill, and she never forgave them. They spent less time hunting than exploring, and Sylvain swore there was treasure in the mountain caves, but they never found any.

He doesn’t want treasure right now. He just wants a wall to lean against.

The caves are further south than he remembers. He can’t feel his feet anymore, every breath is a cold knife through his lungs, and he’s starting to think he really might die out here. How fucking embarrassing. But then Dimitri stops again, grabbing his arm, and Felix sees the shadow carved out from the mountainside. He stumbles forward, half-dragged by Dimitri, too tired and cold to pull away.

The cavern stretches ten feet into the mountainside. Barely tall enough for Dimitri to stand in, but it’s enough to protect them from the wind. There are larger caves, better caves, but they agree without words that this will have to do. Felix slumps against the wall as soon as Dimitri lets go of him. His fingers are numb, and his face feels stiff as leather.

He watches numbly as Dimitri unbuckles his breast plate, his greaves. Takes off all his frozen armor and piles it in against the far wall. It takes him a while, and for an absurd moment, Felix is tempted to offer help. But his own hands are still shaking, and he’s—

He’s scared to get too close. Numb like this, he can admit he’s still scared of the boar. He’s even more scared of himself, and what he’ll become with one wrong move.

He’s spent his whole life following Dimitri. Now, he’s scared of catching him. 

Eventually, he manages to unbuckle his belt and set down his sword. He slides down the wall then, and tugs his coat closer around himself.

Dimitri turns towards him, a hulking mass of fur and shadow, a dark shape against the dark gray of the blizzard. Felix can’t see his face clearly. He can’t see his face at all, and panic lances through him: how can he watch for the boar’s teeth like this? How can he see if the beast loses control?

Felix tenses, reaching for his sword, as Dimitri sits down to his left. He’s way too fucking close, so close their thighs touch, so close the fur of his cloak tickles Felix’s ear. Felix growls under his breath and shuffles further away.

Tries to, at least. Dimitri’s gloved hand—when the fuck did it get so big?—seizes around his thigh and holds him in place.

Felix freezes, held still as much by shock as by force. “Let go, boar,” he hisses. The effect is rather ruined by his chattering teeth. 

“Goddess, Felix, don’t let your pride kill you.” Dimitri’s hand tightens. “I know I’m not your first choice of company, but we don’t have a lot of options here.”

“It’s not pride,” Felix snarls. “It’s…”

He doesn’t know what this is. Not anymore.

Dimitri lets go and he moves on instinct, a good half foot away. He hears Dimitri’s sigh over the wind. There’s an edge to Dimitri’s voice when he says, “Felix, get over here.”

Felix swallows. Dimitri’s turned all the way to look at him, because Felix is sitting on his blind side. Felix almost says, _I’d rather freeze to death_. He opens his mouth to say it, but the words twist to: “Is that an order, Your Highness?”

“Yes.”

The word is a whipcrack. Felix’s spine straightens on instinct, and his heart beats faster, and he hates it. But he obeys, and crawls back to Dimitri’s side. He clenches his teeth and doesn’t protest when Dimitri wraps an arm around him, surrounding him in the warmth of his cloak, the heat of his body.

Dimitri doesn’t say anything else for a while. Doesn’t comment on how tense and stiff Felix is, even though he has to feel it, the way they’re pressed against each other.

Snow piles at the front of the cave, sheltering them further. Any minute now, maybe he’ll convince himself that the danger really is the storm, not the force of nature coiled at his side. Felix’s breath slows, the exhaustion of the march catching up with him. He allows his head to fall back against Dimitri’s shoulder.

Dimitri jerks slightly at the movement, and Felix realizes he’s just as tense. Just as quiet. And Felix doesn’t exactly want to talk to Dimitri, but he doesn’t want Dimitri listening to his ghosts instead.

Sylvain would break the silence with a joke. Ingrid would complain about how hungry she was. Felix asks, “Do you hear anyone right now?”

Dimitri tenses again, then relaxes piece by piece in deliberate effort. “No,” he says, then breathes a laugh. “It’s just the two of us tonight.”

“Lucky me,” Felix mutters. He must be tired. It sounds less sarcastic than he’d hoped.

Dimitri shifts, his arm even heavier on Felix’s shoulder. Why must he be so _large_ now? Felix thought he had accepted Dimitri’s new height and breadth. He spent enough nights watching the boar in the cathedral, assessing how best to get under his guard, how best to use his mass against him. But that was measuring an opponent, not a man pressed against him from shoulder to knee, chest like a furnace, ribs like bellows, breathing heat into Felix’s lungs.

He’s too warm. They’re trapped in a blizzard and he’s far too warm. He’d rather be numb than have every nerve tingling, his lungs flooded with Dimitri’s scent. He’d rather his fingers freeze and break off than ache like this, with the urge to tangle in Dimitri’s shirt, his hair…

“I’m the lucky one,” Dimitri says quietly. “You saved me tonight.”

Felix bristles. What a stupid thing to say, when Felix is the one glued to Dimitri’s side, leeching off his body heat. “Don’t condescend to me just because I can’t escape right now.”

“I mean it.” There’s an unfamiliar resonance in his voice. Like he’s telling a secret. Like he’s telling the truth. And fuck, Felix stops breathing, he wants so badly to hear what Dimitri will say next. He is acutely aware of the broad hand on his arm as Dimitri continues, “There was one more imperial soldier. He ran into the woods. If you hadn’t caught up with me, I would have followed him.”

Felix feels cold again. “The professor called the retreat, and sent me after you.”

“He knows me well,” Dimitri says. “I care more about getting you back safe than…”

Fury flares hotter than his fear. Felix twists up, grabs Dimitri’s jaw, yanks him around so he can look him in his one stupid eye. “You selfish bastard,” he spits, digging in with gloved fingers. He’s too mad to enjoy the shock on Dimitri’s face, blatant even through the near-black darkness. “We’ve been through too much for you to throw yourself away like that. We’ve all been,” he adds, because maybe it’s not clear that he definitely means all of them, not just—

Even through their gloves, Dimitri’s palm is warm as it lays over his hand. Felix feels Dimitri’s pulse pounding into his. He feels the vibration in Dimitri’s throat when he says, “Is it selfish to care for you, Felix?”

Felix wants to pull away, but Dimitri doesn’t even need to hold him in place. The urge doesn’t make it to his tendons and bones. His lips part, but he doesn’t know what to say.

Dimitri lets go of his hand. “Perhaps it is. Forgive me, I ought not burden you with my foolishness.”

He tries to turn away, but Felix finds enough strength to tighten his grip, dig his fingers into his jaw, his throat. He hopes he leaves bruises. He says, “Boar,” and then, “Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s throat jumps under his hand. He whispers, “Felix.”

This is stupid. This is phenomenally stupid. He needs to say something. Dimitri needs to know how stupid he’s been. He needs to know that Felix will always be there, running at his heels, even if he hasn’t caught up yet.

He needs to know the only way to prove he really cares is to live. But the words catch like brambles in his throat, and all Felix can say is, “Dimitri.”

Somehow, that’s enough.

Suddenly Dimitri’s hand is around _his_ neck, the gentle touch of leather drawing him closer, drawing his blood to his skin. Felix inhales and all he breathes is Dimitri, all he knows is Dimitri’s mouth on his. The storm outside falls away, and Felix knows this is what he’s been afraid of: that once he catches the boar, he won’t be able to let go.

But maybe Felix is the selfish one after all. He doesn’t pull away. When Dimitri tugs, he follows. Climbs clumsily into his lap, and kisses harder.


End file.
